Vespera

Backstory

Everyone thinks they have me figured out.

Vespera Evervale: quiet, clever, just sharp enough to keep around. I sit next to Pansy, I laugh at the right moments, and I never say too much. I know how to glide through conversations without leaving fingerprints. That’s what gets you by in our circle.

I grew up in Wiltshire, raised by my mother—an old-blood witch with too many rules and not enough warmth. My father’s a Muggle. Not that anyone’s supposed to know. They divorced when I was a child, and his name was quietly erased from our story. I learned early on how to edit myself.

That’s what being half-blood in pure-blood company feels like: permanent self-censorship.

Draco’s known me since we were kids. He used to call me “Vesp” when no one was listening, back when we were both too young to understand the weight of our names. I’ve had a crush on him for years—stupid, I know. He’s charming in public, reckless in private, and always just out of reach. I don’t think he’s ever looked at me the way I looked at him.

And Pansy… she’s louder than me, meaner than me, but she’s real. In her own way. She knows how far she can push people and when to pull back. There’s comfort in that. Our friendship is made of secrets we don’t say out loud.

There’s also Blaise—aloof and unreadable—but he sees more than he lets on. He once asked me, “Why are you here with us?” I didn’t answer. He didn’t expect me to.

I don’t fully belong with them, but I know how to belong just enough.

I laugh when they do. I pretend I don’t flinch when they talk about blood status. I pretend I’m not still hoping Draco will see me.

But really? All I want is a version of this world where I don’t have to pretend so much. Where I can speak without weighing every word. Where who I am is enough.

Until then, I stay quiet. I stay close.

And I survive.